Redemptorist Novena

Corpus Christi 2006

We have just heard the familiar account of how Jesus transformed bread and wine into his Body and Blood. There is a lot of meaning in the signs he chose: bread nourishes; bread is gathered into one loaf from many grains of wheat; bread shared with others is a sign of unity, the word ‘companions’ literally means those who share bread. Wine gives joy; red wine reminds us of blood; wine is made by the crushing of grapes.

There is another very fundamental thing that these signs say to us – not just because they are bread and wine, but because of what Jesus did with them. In the case of both the bread and wine, the Gospel uses the same phrase – “he gave it to them”. The sign that Jesus established, by which he wished to be present to us is not just bread and wine, but bread and wine given to us.

In our Mass, we offer these gifts in the Offertory so that we may receive them as gifts from Jesus himself.

The bread and wine given to his disciples is a sign that he is giving not just gifts but himself – a sign of his body given up for us and his blood poured out for us. When we think about it, this seems a bit strange. Jesus is betrayed by one of his closest friends, captured by the Roman soldiers, dragged from the high priest to Pilate to Herod, and back to Pilate, he was scourged and made to carry a cross to the place where he was cruelly killed. This does not look like somebody giving himself. It looks like somebody taken by force and dreadfully treated by people misusing their irresistible power.

But the reality was very different: “Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me twelve legions of angels?” ( Mt 26:53 ). It was different because Jesus was not simply a victim. What he had done in signs at the Last Supper, he now did in the cruel reality of Calvary: he gave his body and shed his blood as a gift to his Father and to us. “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” ( Jn 15:13 ). It was, as the Second Eucharistic Prayer expresses it, “a death he freely accepted”.

This is an extraordinary transformation. From one point of view what happened on Calvary was cruel and evil; from another point of view it is the most astonishing act of love and goodness. The cruelty of those who condemned him and killed him becomes the fullest possible expression of his love. Such heroic love is admirable and extraordinary. But the most extraordinary thing is this: the power and the weapons of the Roman soldiers seemed to have conquered him, but they hadn’t. The heroically generous and forgiving love of Jesus on the Cross was the most powerful force that exists. This was the power that made the entire universe. It was the infinite power of God made visible, not in armies or wealth or influence, but in Love.

On Calvary the powerlessness of evil when face to face with the love of God was made clear. On Calvary, the love God, made visible in Christ defeated evil and death. All that remains is for us to share in his victory over evil and death. That was what he promised his disciples that he would make possible: “I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” ( Jn 12:32 ). Already at the Last Supper, he points to this transformation: “Truly, I say to you, I shall not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”

This was the beginning of the transformation of the whole of creation. It was the beginning of the process that would lead to the fulfilment of the great vision of the book of Revelation: “God will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away. And the one who was seated on the throne will say: ‘See, I am making all things new’ ( Rev 21:4,5 ).

The bread and wine we offer as gifts and which are offered back to us are not just gifts from Jesus to us – the gift is himself. He gives us himself in his death and resurrection – lifted up from the earth and drawing us to himself. He is the mediator of a new covenant, “so that those who are called may receive the promised eternal inheritance” ( Second Reading ).

His resurrection is the beginning of the new creation when God makes all things new. It is the beginning of the life we hope to share forever with him. What we receive in Holy Communion is his gift of himself – his gift of himself which he made to his Father and to us on Calvary. In that gift of himself his humanity entered the glory which he had had with his Father before the world was made (Jn 17:5). He entered into a tent, a dwelling place “not made with hands, that is, not of this creation.” In other words, we receive Jesus raised from the dead. We are in touch with the life which death and evil cannot touch.

The bread and wine were given to the disciples at the Last Supper and in those signs, he gave them himself. Now we offer bread and wine to him in the Offertory. He gave them bread and wine as signs the he was going to give up his body and shed his blood. When we offer the gifts we are saying that we are willing to give ourselves with him and in him. In that offering of ourselves we express the very meaning of our lives – to love the Lord our God with all our heart and mind and strength, and to love one another as ourselves – and to do that with and in Christ, sharing in the love greater than which no one has.

The bread and wine are no longer bread and wine; indeed we could say that in one sense, they are no longer of this world; they are not of this creation. They are part of the new creation and the glory which has no end. And yet, at the same time, they are still part of our world. That is the wonder of it: we can see and touch and taste and worship and receive the Risen Christ in his Eucharistic Body and Blood.

In receiving Jesus, it is not he who is changed, but we who are changed. He himself is the Gift he gives us. We are touched by the love of Christ, the first born of the new creation; he draws us to himself. Here in the celebration of the Eucharist, we touch the very meaning of our lives.

+Donal Murray
Bishop of Limerick